Human
by PrettyInPink14
Summary: Kurt is mentally broken from the bullying he's suffered through. A change in school is exactly what he needs to recover, but there he meets a boy who shows him that there's more to life than he believes.
1. Chapter 1: An Encounter

Hey, another story! This one is going to be multi-chaptered, I don't know quite how many yet, but I'll try to make regular updates so the next one will probably be up by next weekend. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing! (P.S. this is unbeta-ed, only edited by me, sorry for any mistakes I overlooked)

**Title:** Human

**Summary:** Kurt is mentally broken from the bullying he's suffered through. A change in school is exactly what he needs to recover, but there he meets a boy who shows him that there's more to life than he believes.

**Rating:** Mature audiences only (for later chapters)

**Author:** Emma (PrettyinPink14)

**Warnings/Spoilers:** Cutting, suicide attempts (possible trigger)

Enjoy! xoxoxo

_**We accept the love we think we deserve.**_

"I love you."

Blaine smiled at me from across the table, a goofy smile lighting up his face. His golden eyes twinkled at me mischievously, but I nearly choked on my coffee as his words registered in my mind. Something stirred in my chest - something I wasn't willing to identify - so I pushed the feeling away. Every thought I'd ever had rushed to the front of my mind as I attempted to formulate a response, panic squeezing my heart painfully. My fingers began to twitch, and a headache made itself known as my temple throbbed with each heartbeat. Quickly my breathing escalated, and I knew I was quickly on my way to a fullblown panic attack. "I-"

"You don't need to say it back." Blaine shook his head, but I saw through his placating smile. His hand reached over the table and found mine. I latched on to him and squeezed, needing skin to skin contact. "I just want you to know." My eyes shut and the world became dark - for a moment my breathing came easier and my heart stopped racing quite so hard. Trembles still shook my wrists and fingers, but eventually the anxiety faded. I reopened my eyes and Blaine was still there, worry in his eyes. His calloused thumb stroked the tender skin of my palm. My eyes filled with tears of gratitude that I blinked away. "Sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be."

Blaine's acceptance of my condition was almost overwhelming at times. When we met, I was broken, barely a person. Those slams into lockers and verbal attacks affected me more than I let on, and just before transferring to Dalton, I fell apart. I despised myself, blaming myself for the abuse I received, because I was willing to put myself out there. The bullying turned me against myself, and against everyone else.

My first suicide attempt was on a weekend, after my dad had gone to work and Finn was out with Rachel. I felt alone, and in a very dark place. I shut myself up in my closet, listening to them taunt me in my mind, like a haunting and horrible melody. With tears wiped from my eyes, I picked up the knife slowly and held it up directly in front of me at eye level. It gleamed with a sharpness even in the dim, sterile and clean and everything I was not. I was dirty and infected with a sickness, or so they said. For just that little while, I could believe them. It gave me an out.

The first slash to my left wrist was shallow, and I bit my bottom lip to keep the scream from slipping out. _Weak, _I thought, over and over. Each cut was deeper than the last, and blood pooled over the lacerations before dripping to the floor like macabre rain. By now my left hand was shaking so violently that I almost couldn't get a grip on the knife enough to pierce the skin of my right wrist. My screams of agony filled the claustrophobic room, tortured sobs bouncing off the walls back to me. In my clumsy haste I brought the knife down perpendicular to my wrist, sinking the blade down an inch into the flesh of my arm. Immediately I let go and it clattered to the floor with a loud metallic _clang_. There was so much blinding white-hot burning that I couldn't fathom how I could still be conscious and was I even _alive_ . . . But it gave me what I was finally looking for. I was _feeling_ for the first time in months. My vision was going black, the edges fuzzing and blurring as my mind became less and less sharp. The last thought I had was for my father, and the last thing I felt was a small pang of regret that he would have to lose two of his immediate family in such devastating ways.

I awoke to a hospital bed, beeping machines and bright lights and doctors who told me that I was on 72 hour suicide watch, and would be taken to the psych ward as soon as they were done stitching and bandaging my wrists. My father sat by my bedside with furrowed eyebrows and twisted hands, but said nothing, and neither did I. After three days I was allowed to go home. My dad scheduled me a therapist for three times a week. I went, and I answered the questions I was asked. I volunteered nothing, and after a while I was deemed sane or some other shit and didn't have to return. My close call with death should have made me appreciate life more, but instead I felt empty. Nothing could arouse any sort of emotion in me. Rachel and Mercedes called and I ignored them. I passed the summer away in my room, door closed and curtains drawn, curled up in the spot of my closet floor where I came so close to bleeding out only weeks before. It was morbid, and I was aware. And the hate I felt for myself was replaced with feeling nothing for anything.

My second attempt was borne more out of boredom than anything else. I dreaded facing another school year at McKinley, having to put up with the narrow-minded bullies who would taunt me and ridicule me for expressing who I was. The sleeping pills that I had been using to ward off nightmares were over the counter, but still strong. One night before bed I took a handful, gulping them down before I could really think about it, curious to see if I would wake up in the morning or not. I did, although my mind felt slow and fuzzy and I slept more than I usually would. It was my total lack of regard for my life that finally convinced me to ask my dad to consider switching my schools. Eventually we decided on Dalton Academy, a prep school for boys that had a zero tolerance policy for bullying of any kind, so that I could feel safe and protected even in a new environment. I was just thankful the uniform navy blue blazer with red piping was long enough to hide the jagged raised scars on my wrists.

My first day at Dalton was a struggle, having a hard time finding my classes and someone to sit with at lunch. I finally decided a lunch outside under the big pink cherry blossom tree was as good a place as any. It was actually rather peaceful in the courtyard, away from lunchroom clamor and watchful administrative eyes. I was halfway through my peanut butter and jelly sandwich when a lovely melody drifted through the air past my ears, and my head lifted to try to catch the tune. It was followed by a soft voice, so velvety and smooth that it seemed to melt away, dissipating into the atmosphere. Without thinking, I rose, setting down my lunch and slowly inching around the trunk of the tree to get a look at the source of the wonderful music. My eyes fell upon a head of dark curls, gently gelled to one side. The boy was strumming lightly on a guitar, crooning so sweetly it was almost sinful. I could just barely make out amber-colored eyes and long dark lashes. The boy's blazer was lying under him on the ground, and his white dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows, revealing tanned, toned arms. His tie was loosened around his neck, and his appearance was so overall disheveled that I couldn't help but let out a little chuckle. He heard me, though, twisting his head around to look at me. Caught in the act, I froze, unable to form a coherent string of words in my head, let alone say them out loud.

"Hello," he said, with a gentle smile full of pearly white teeth. He stood, leaning his guitar against the tree and brushing off his pants before extending his hand. "I'm Blaine."

I looked down at his hand, wondering why in the world I couldn't command my body to take it. It simply refused to do what I said, instead remaining locked into place. I looked back up into this boy's eyes, but they were so unsettlingly clear that I couldn't concentrate and opted to staring at my shoes. "I'm Kurt."

Blaine's hand dropped back to his side, but he didn't seem at all discouraged by the denial. "Well," he said, gesturing to his spot on the ground. "Would you like to join me for lunch, Kurt?"

I looked up, startled by his offer and his generosity. It had been a while since I'd met anyone new, and I still wasn't used to interacting with people. This boy - Blaine - seemed nice, but was he really trustworthy?

I looked at Blaine, contemplating sitting, but his grin was just so happy and bright and _he doesn't need a friend like me_. With balled fists I mumbled some excuse before I was running, away from him and the embarrassing mess I'd just gotten myself into. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me in dress shoes and slacks. I made it around to the front of the building before I began panting, resting my hands on my knees. The tremors in my hands had slowed, and clenching my hands into fists made them disappear altogether. I collapsed into the immaculate front lawn, curling up into a ball until my keening subsides and I could think straight again. My nervous disorder only developed after my suicide attempts, borne as a result of severe trauma and stress. It only acted up when I was feeling particularly emotional or tense. Sometimes I would shake, or cry, or hyperventilate until someone came to calm me down. I worked with a doctor to lessen the symptoms, but it still flared occasionally.

Blaine didn't seem deterred, though, after the incident when I fled. He turned out to be my dorm mate, along with two other boys name Jeff and Wes. They each gave me welcoming smiles that I answered with just a tiny nod, embarrassment flooding my cheeks because I couldn't even force myself to say my own name. I was saved only by Blaine, who walked into the room and greeted me like an old friend. He did the same to the other boys as well, before setting his brown leather bag on the bed directly next to mine. I tried to avert my eyes as he slowly stripped out of his school uniform down to just an undershirt and boxers, stretching his arms up to reveal a smooth, taut stomach. My arousal was more and more evident in my face and also my pants, which were becoming uncomfortably tight. I grabbed my bag of toiletries and practically flew out the door, away from the others where no one could see me if I began to lose it. Thankfully the showers were empty, and I could take one in peace without worry of interaction with others. The cold water thankfully discouraged my arousal, and I was grateful to not have to resort to other methods with which I wasn't really comfortable in a place that seemed so public.

I returned to the room to find all my dorm mates gathered on Blaine's bed, books and laptops spread out everywhere. Blaine had a pencil in his mouth as he frowned at a notebook, Wes was flipping through some atlas, and Jeff was typing away at a MacBook.

"Hey Kurt," Blaine greeted me as I walked in. "Wanna study?"

I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious in just a T-shirt and sleep pants. I shook my head no and pulled out my own homework from my bag. I hadn't expected so much, since it was just the first day, but the professors here didn't waste any time. I sighed as I saw just how much geometry homework had been assigned - just enough to drive me crazy. It was going to be an agonizing few weeks, I thought glumly, until I got used to the routines here.

"Hey," called Wes, and I assumed I was the one to whom he was referring. "So where'd you transfer from?" I could tell he was trying to be friendly, and he seemed nice enough, but panic constricted my throat.

"Mc-McKinley," I choked out.

"Ahhh," Jeff answered. "Never been to public school. Why'd you make the switch?"

I looked down at my hands, which were white-knuckled as I squeezed them together. My face felt hot and my knees began to shake. "I, uh-,"

"Jeff, it's obviously personal," Blaine cut in. I couldn't help but smile at him in thanks for saving me, again, from that. He nodded before turning back to his work. They said nothing to me for the rest of the night, for which I knew I owed thanks to Blaine yet again, and at ten o'clock I put away my schoolwork and tried to get some sleep.

The next day I fumbled my way through classes, formulating enough coherent responses that I didn't seem like a total mental patient to the other students and teachers. At lunch I decided to sit by the tree and see if Blaine would be playing again, but he wasn't there. Feeling just slightly disappointed, I ate my meal in silence.

I heard him before I saw him, soft footsteps shuffling through the grass in front of me. I looked up and there he was, shirt half-tucked with his guitar slung across his back. When I caught his eye he grinned, and I had to admit he was one of the most beautiful people I'd ever seen. He greeted me cheerily, sitting down in the dirt next to me before pulling his guitar around to his front. Immediately he began strumming with eyes shut, but there was no tune this time, just gentle buzzing notes. I was still bewildered by the fact that he was sitting in such close proximity to me that I almost didn't notice that he was humming along with his instrument, his voice sweet like syrup. And suddenly, as if he could sense me watching him, his eyes snapped open and he turned to me. I felt majorly embarrassed for being caught staring, but he just gave me a half smirk and asked if I play. I shook my head no.

"Do you want to learn?"

Again I shook my head.

"You don't speak much, do you." It wasn't a question. I still shook my head no.

Blaine stopped playing and turned his body to face mine. We were close now, too close for me to be okay with. I scrambled backwards without thinking until there was at least five feet of space between us. His golden eyes flashed with something like hurt but I could see that it bounced right off him. "Can you sing?"

Cautiously, I nodded.

Blaine's face lit up, and I was once again given the privilege of looking at his blindingly white smile. "That's great!" His laugh is as melodic as any song I've ever heard. "You should audition for the Warblers!"

"Th-The Warblers?"

Blaine's face was one of triumph for getting me to speak. "The Glee club here. We're really good, and if you're new it could be just what you need to boost your popularity and make some friends."

Even the mere thought of joining Glee club again made both longing and revulsion rise me. I shook my head violently, not wanting to bring anything from my old life into this one, not wanting to be a part of something that could bring any kind of ridicule upon me. Dalton was supposed to be about equality - treated the same no matter your race, sexuality, or heritage. I couldn't do anything that might threaten the peace that had finally entered my life. No matter how much I missed singing, I would give it up to protect myself.

Blaine's face looked just a tad mournful. "Shame, you have such a pretty voice. I'd love to hear you sing something." And hell yes Blaine knew what he was doing, batting his dark eyelashes and sugar coating his words. "Please?" He held out the end of the world for a few seconds, opting for a playful approach that nearly broke my resolve. Blaine's hand found its way to my knee, caressing my leg softly, and I batted him away but didn't stand. He looked at me with an expectant expression, eyebrows raised. I averted my eyes and opened my mouth, a single wavering note piercing the air. It wasn't a song really, just a string of notes that tumbled from my mouth before I could gather enough sense to hold them in, and the release felt so good that I couldn't stop. The more I sang, the more the tightness in my chest loosened up and I felt the tension that constantly restrained my body begin to slacken. I hadn't used my voice for anything more than what was necessary after what happened, and it had seemed like years. I _missed_ singing and I didn't know quite how much until I started again. This was the loudest I'd been since the attempts I made on my life, and there was a certain vulnerability to be singing to someone I hardly knew without any abandon, dipping into lower chords and twisting my voice into runs that used muscles that were definitely out of practice. It felt so _good_ though, so _free_, and for the first time in months, I didn't feel self-conscious. It was only after I stopped - my last note hanging poignantly in the air - that I began to regret the decision to sing. Blaine's expression was completely unreadable, devoid of any emotion except a shine in his eyes. Were those . . . Well, no, of course they couldn't be _tears, _could they?

"That was beautiful." I watched as Blaine swallowed a lump in his throat. Nerves were starting to creep up my chest again, and I willed them away, my fists firmly clenched. "Look," Blaine said, and I saw such deep, raw emotion in his eyes. His hand twitched, as if he wanted to touch me again but didn't know how I would react. I held my hand out to him, trying to keep the shaking to a minimum, and gratefully he grabbed on, pulling me in closer to him. My eyes were drawn back to his, like magnets, and I was fixated on his amber eyes and intense gaze. "Kurt," he began, and I shivered at the way my name sounded like a caress falling from his lips. "I can see through you. I understand exactly why you're here. You've been hurt, and you were looking for an escape. I've seen the scars," he whispered, and I felt a finger swipe across the jagged edges. I tried to yank my hand away, but his grip was firm. "You're shy, and that's fine. You don't trust people, and that's also fine. Why would you? It obviously seems like life dealt you a crappy hand, and you're having a hard time dealing with it. You like hiding from people. You're physically there, but your mind is far away from your body. You distance yourself from the world. I can see myself in you. I was exactly at the same point in my life that you are now. I was nearly beaten to death by these homophobic boys who were looking for an outlet. I thought I was worthless. But you know what got me through?" He paused, and the question didn't seem rhetorical so I prompted him. "Music. It heals the soul, Kurt. And your voice is unlike anything I've ever heard. It's ethereal, and hauntingly beautiful. You have a lifetime's worth of sadness behind your eyes. You could make a great musician someday; all you'd need was a little push. Don't worry about everyone else, Kurt. They don't matter. No one has to matter. You don't have to let anyone else into your life if that's what you choose to do. But don't cut out music. Trust me, it may be the only thing that will help you." Blaine stood abruptly, and I let my hand fall back into my lap where it immediately found its twin, intertwining with each other painfully. "Think about what I said, Kurt. The Warblers need someone like you."

He walked away without another glance back, and I couldn't help but feel completely unraveled by the fact that a boy, who I had known all of a day, had utterly exposed me, stripped away my layers of careful composure until I was little more than a quaking child.

Reviews are very appreciated! xoxo


	2. Chapter 2: A Proposal

_Hi! So sorry it took so long for the update, I had some personal stuff that I had to take care of over the weekend and wasn't able to write a chapter. But it's up now, and that's all that matters._

_I realized after writing this that there are some parallels to the show (oops!) Just know that it was unintentional. Spoilers for Original Songs, maybe, but it's still in an alternate showverse so I suppose not really. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I've been getting a lot of Story Alerts but only one review, so more are appreciated and always make the update process go a little faster! And sorry again that it's short. Next one should be longer. This story should be about 5 or 6 chapters, haven't decided yet just how long I'm going to make it. REVIEW!_

_Thanks, Emma xoxoxo_

**Chapter 2**

I was accepted into the Warblers within a week. Blaine's speech about not giving up on music was all that it took to convince me that I could use some music in my life again (along with a constant inner mantra of _I'm safe here._)The first practices - which occurred every Tuesday and Thursday - consisted of me learning the songs and dance steps, and how to mix into the fold. It was critical that everything be perfect for Sectionals, because it would be Dalton again McKinley at Regionals. I felt conflicted about competing against my friends, but at the same time it felt great to have something to look forward to. Blaine got all the solos, and while it was slightly irksome that the spotlight did only shine on him, he was also a brilliant singer and he captured everyone's attention when he sang. Maybe he didn't have the tallest stature, but it didn't show when he performed. Blaine was a powerhouse of fun and talent, and my soul ached to harmonize with him, just the two of us in a duet.

Nevertheless, it did come as a surprise to me when Blaine brought it up one day during lunch. We both sat outside together, every day. It was a tradition I was constantly afraid he would break. That Wednesday was particularly sunny, with no gentle breeze to ease the blazing heat. I took off my blazer immediately, loosening my tie and rolling the cuffs. Usually I was a stickler for the rules, my uniform neat and impeccable, which was why Blaine felt the need to smirk at my less-than-tidy appearance. He didn't have his guitar today, and indeed was bringing it less and less as we began to speak to each other more and more. I nodded at him, hoping my face was disguising the way he made my heart flip flop on the inside. Blaine always looked happy to see me, something I couldn't afford to look into, and I ignored it. I could tell, though, that Blaine had an eager glint to his eye, and he wasted no time divulging what he wanted to say.

"I think we should do a duet."

I choked on the sandwich I had been in the middle of chewing, grimacing as it slid down my throat painfully. "As in, together?" Inwardly I rolled my eyes at my own response. It was progress though. Blaine was opening me up, getting me to talk more and more, and I was always rewarded with one of his blinding heartfelt grins.

"Yes, together," he answered in a slight mockery of my higher-pitched tone. "I thought maybe we could sing 'I Won't Give Up' by Jason Mraz."

This choice surprised me. But then, did Blaine ever stop shocking me? "Why that one?" I was acutely aware that it was a romantic love song.

"Be_cause_," he emphasized, "It's a great song. And I was just thinking that if we were going to do it at Regionals, it should be emotional. Between people who have chemistry." His gold eyes met mine, a flash jumping across the amber as if challenging me to deny it. I gaped at him, struggling to regain any kind of composure before he spoke again. "So what do you say?" Blaine prompted, his eagerness clearly shown in his expression, but I sensed wariness in his eyes at my lack of reaction.

I deliberated it for a moment. Even though I was so looking forward to potentially singing something with Blaine, was it really such a good idea? I had only _just_ started singing again, and singing such a vulnerable song would only make me more insecure. I'd meant to keep Blaine at a comfortable distance, so as not to weigh him down with all the baggage I come with, but he was by my side relentlessly - between classes, during meals, even at night in the dorm. He'd ask me mundane questions about my life - my favorite color, my friends at McKinley - and I'd answer as truthfully as I could. The only time I had to lie was when he asked about my mom, and why I never talked about her. I told Blaine she divorced my dad and didn't look back. I couldn't tell him about her death, couldn't let myself open up to him like that. In return for my honesty, Blaine let me ask anything him anything I wanted. My questions started out trivial, but once I saw he was fearless about answering anything, they began to get more personal. I knew about his absent parents, always on vacation or a business trip; about his brother, who worked in Hollywood and was in show business; even about his ex-boyfriends, after some persuasion. It felt odd to me that someone could be so completely trustworthy of a friend they barely knew, but maybe that was just how Blaine was. Friendly and incredibly kind, with nothing to hide.

"I would love too." My voice sounded more elated than I felt, butterflies already beginning to stretch their wings in the pit of my gut. Added to that were liquefied legs as Blaine beamed with that smile that brought even the brightest spotlights to shame. He jumped at me, pulling me in for a tight hug that had me tense, arms covering my middle protectively, before finally coming to my senses and loosening up slightly. Pulling away, Blaine sat back on his heels, still looking at me. His smile was still there, but fainter now, his eyes narrowed in curiosity. He was _studying _me, and all I could do was wait until he finished. The silence stretched on, but wasn't awkward, as we looked at each other, somehow communicating, words unneeded. It was an intense feeling, being under his gaze, and I couldn't help but squirm. My movements seemed to bring Blaine back to earth, and he stood abruptly, dusting off his trousers. He looked down at me, one triangular eyebrow raised. "Coming?"

"I can't get it."

"Yes, you _can._" Blaine threw the sheet music on top of the piano furiously. "Why don't you ever have faith in your ability? I've _heard_ you hit that note before, Kurt. Try it." He hit a key on the piano with a little too much force, the note echoing only slightly in the high- ceiling room. I turned away, eyes welling up foolishly at his harsh tone. "Maybe you should pick someone else to sing with. I can't do it."

Blaine's sigh was loud and aggravated. I could just imagine him resting his elbows on the top of the piano, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. I felt awful for disappointing him, for giving less than what I was capable of. It was true, I _had_ hit that high E before, but it was only once, and my voice had immediately squeaked and cracked afterwards. I'd run out of rehearsal, sobbing from embarrassment, curling up on my bed and sobbing some more for how ridiculous I was being. It took almost a week to even _speak _to Blaine again, and rehearsals didn't resume for a while after that. Now finally, I had built up the courage to try it again, but now that I was here, the fear was creeping into my limbs and up my throat, making singing and even _breathing _impossible. I felt a light fluttering touch on my shoulder. "What are you so afraid of?" The words were hardly a whisper, but in the otherwise silent room, they spoke volumes.

My head falls to my chest, arms crossed around my chest to make myself as small as possible. Fingernails dug into palms as my chest shuddered with stuttering sobs. "Failure."

I'd never admitted that before. Not to anyone. Not even myself.

The grip on my shoulder tightens in a comforting squeeze, though it does little to calm my emotions. "You don't need to worry about that, Kurt. Not with me. You're safe with me."

I inhaled again, gulping down a large amount of air. It seemed to clear my head. I spun around and took the sheet music. "Give me the note."

Blaine's grin was miniscule, as if afraid of scaring me away. Trying to keep a serious face, his finger tapped down on the white key. My voiced flowed from my mouth, completely without any control, but I scaled up to the note and hit it, and it sustained for a few moments before coming back down. My mouth snapped shut, teeth clacking together as the realization of what I had just done began to sink in my mind. Blaine was smiling at me so widely – something he did so often, I'd begun to expect it – and I felt my lip twitch upwards, pride swelling my chest. A relieved half-chuckle left my lips, and I had to brace myself against the piano. Blue met amber as my eyes met Blaine's, and I could feel everything he was feeling in that instant. He nodded, and I felt something pass through me that I hadn't realized I'd been craving – approval.

"You did it," Blaine said. "I'm so proud of you." He didn't have to say it. I already knew.

And then there was tension. I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine, and the attraction I felt and had been pushing away was now rising to the surface, hot and pumping through my veins. My breath caught as I watched Blaine's eyes fall to my lips. On impulse I licked them, trying to reverse the dryness in my mouth that suddenly made me feel like I'd swallowed a desert. Blaine took one step closer to me, and then another, his fingers lightly dragging against the top of the polished black piano. I could read his expression so plainly – he was always an open book – and I saw the desire in his eyes. It frightened me, that he reciprocated my feelings, but I willed myself not to be so delicate and sensitive, for God's sake. I wasn't made of porcelain. Maybe I'd cracked before, but I hadn't broken. No need to have a panic attack now. Not just before my first kiss.

Blaine was so close now. I could feel his breath tickling my chin. I rapidly began wishing there was a chair for me to sit down on, because my knees felt much too weak to be supporting my weight. Needing to brace myself on something, I latched myself on to the first thing my hand came in contact with – which happened to be Blaine's shoulder. He seemed surprised although not displeased that I had initiated physical contact. It spurred him on, and then he was _right there, _and he was looking at me with eyes that were almost completely black, rimmed by a small circle of amber. "Is this okay?" he whispered, and our lips and noses brushed so slightly, we were standing that close. I barely mumbled a response before his mouth was on mine, incredibly soft and gentle, not at all pushy or forceful. His hands stayed by his sides, but mine held on to him as tight as I could, tangling fingers in his hair and into the folds of his shirt. I was feeling so much in that moment that it physically _hurt_, how much I wanted to be with Blaine, and be around him all the time, because he made me feel so wonderful and I didn't want to _lose _that, ever. And then his tongue touched my lips and it became too much, I was on sensory overload and my mind was overwhelmed. I pushed him away roughly, wincing as his back bent over the side of the piano from the force. My right hand went to my left wrist, to the scars there, and they were ugly and jagged but also comforting. I didn't run, just stood there feeling more ashamed than I ever have. I wouldn't look at Blaine, wouldn't see the judgment that was undoubtedly residing in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I squeaked, surprising myself by even possessing the ability to speak anymore.

"What for?" Blaine mumbled, but it was rhetorical. I saw him rubbing his neck from the corner of my eye as I stared down at my shoes. He sighed. I hated when he sighed. It made me think he was disappointed in me. "Kurt-,"

"Maybe I should just go," I muttered. I thought he would stop me. I expected a hand on my shoulder as I turned around. But there was nothing. No sound, no movement from Blaine.

I left. I didn't look back to see if he was following.

I knew he wouldn't.

Reviews are greatly appreciated! xoxo


	3. Chapter 3: A Performance

_Chapter 3! Sorry it's a long time coming._

_Word Count: 2,202_

_Reviews would be lovely! Thanks for reading I also didn't know that they would be doing this song on Glee before this was written, and now I'm quite disappointed that it's not a Klaine duet._

_Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Glee or Klaine, or to the song _I Won't Give Up.

_Xoxo Emma_

**Chapter 3**

"Are you ready?"

Blaine looked at me expectantly. I shook my head no, biting my lip so hard I was sure to draw blood. I felt a hand brush mine. Instinctively I took it, and Blaine let me squeeze as hard as I wanted. _Deep breaths, _I thought, and eventually I regained control of my breathing and my mind, which had previously been running through all the song lyrics, a jumbled frenzy as my worry of messing up increased exponentially. Once I found I was on even ground again, I shook myself out and let go of his hand. "Ready," I amended.

The applause was deafening as I stepped onto the stage. It was scheduled that I would sing first, followed by Blaine, and the rest of the Warblers would join us onstage at the very end of the song. I was wary about singing first, but Blaine was encouraging and told me I needed to push myself more. My head bobbed awkwardly to the opening chords of the song, and I opened my mouth to sing.

_When I look into your eyes, it's like watching the night sky, or a beautiful sunrise_

My voice wavered going into the second line, the pressure of everyone watching starting to take its toll already. I glanced to the side of the stage behind the curtain, and caught a glimpse of Blaine singing along and edging me on. It gave me the boost of confidence I needed just to get through this part.

_Well there's so much they hold_

_And just like them old stars_

_I see that you've come so far_

_To be right where you are_

_How old is your soul?_

Although my body felt like it was flailing wildly as I had nothing to hold on to but empty space, no shoulder or microphone stand to grip, I delivered my solo with minimal shakiness. As soon as my verse was finished, Blaine strode on to the stage, and once again the audience erupted into clapping. I couldn't blame them – Blaine was beaming and oh so brilliant, lit up by the sharp spotlight. He'd made a name for himself through the Warblers, and it clearly showed. People loved him.

Blaine turned to me, and winked. I fervently hoped that my blush wasn't apparent to everyone in the entire auditorium, because when he effortless began the chorus, he was looking directly at me and suddenly I couldn't feel my toes.

_Well I won't give up on us_

_Even if the skies get rough_

_I'm giving you all my love_

_I'm still looking up_

I was so entranced by his melodic voice that I almost forgot that the next stanza was one we were supposed to sing together. It was easier this time, having a comforting presence next to me. I stared into his eyes, remembering what Blaine had told me before the show – if I got nervous, I was supposed to just pretend that he was the only other person there, and I was singing only to him, just like in rehearsals.

_And when you're needing your space_

_To do some navigating_

_I'll be here patiently waiting_

_To see what you find_

From here Blaine would sing lead and I would sing the higher octave, or at least that's what we had practiced. But he sensed my confidence was building, and he gestured for me to step forward and belt the next line. And maybe my voice was too high and wouldn't necessarily fit the track, I knew Blaine was doing this for me, letting me soak up the attention and make all those stressful rehearsals worth it. He was giving me the opportunity to shine and I took it.

_Cause even the stars, they burn_

_Some even fall to the earth_

_We got a lot to learn_

_God knows we're worth it_

_No I won't give up_

I stepped back and, on impulse, took Blaine's hand. He looked worried by it, but it was only for a second to convey my thanks. By then the audience was on its feet, clapping and singing along. Blaine did an adorable little dance in the mini instrumental break before the bridge. We both harmonized flawlessly, taking little liberties here and there to flaunt our abilities.

_I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily_

_I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make_

_Our differences they do a lot to teach us _

_How to use the tools and gifts we got _

_Yeah, we got a lot at stake_

_And in the end, you're still my friend _

_At least we did intend for us to work _

_We didn't break, we didn't burn_

_We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in_

_I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not_

_And who I am_

We both nailed it, and stepped back to join our fellow Warblers who had taken the stage behind us. The last choruses were loud and powerful and we all sang our hearts out, belting out the words with our hearts and souls. It was the first time in a long time that I was living in the moment and not worrying about anything else. And at the end, just like how we had practiced, I went up and I hit the high note, and maybe it sounded a little off to me but the crowd went crazy and as we finished with an abrupt flourish of our arms there were screams and people were on their feet and I could only think, _this is what it's like to be happy. _

We lost Regionals to New Directions, who had done brilliant original songs, and I couldn't blame the judges for picking them over us. Rachel had been stellar and moving on her solo and it was an absolutely brilliant performance. Of course, she said the same when we met backstage afterward with a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. I felt tears threatening to make an appearance as I took in my former classmates, people I loved and cared about and then had shut out after I'd gotten worse. Mercedes enveloped me into the tightest hug I had ever been on the receiving end of, and even Puck slapped me on the shoulder and congratulated me on getting laid. Although that wasn't true, not even in the slightest, his words were encouraging instead of stinging, and for that I could only be grateful. While Rachel caught me up on the latest gossip surrounding her and her fellow glee club members, I saw Blaine behind her, conversing with some other Warblers and twirling something in his hands nervously. It confused me, because as far as I knew Blaine had no nervous ticks except for being a pain in my ass, and I excused myself to go talk to him.

After he easily slipped his way out of the conversation with his classmates, he followed me into a dressing room that had been abandoned. "What's going on?" he asked me, slipping what he had been twirling around before into his back pocket.

"Are you alright?" It felt funny, asking him that, when I was usually the one answering that particular question instead. But something was not right with him. He looked like he was burning up, his Warblers' tie loosened around his neck and the first few buttons on his dress shirt were undone. His jacket must have been thrown haphazardly somewhere, because it was absent now. Blaine switched his weight from one foot to the other, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"I'm okay," Blaine said, and for once, he did not make eye contact with me. "I've just been thinking about something that's still nagging me in the back of my mind."

"Oh?" I asked. "And what would that be?"

"What happened that day?" Finally Blaine's head lifted in my direction, his amber eyes touching mine. "In the auditorium, right after you hit that high note and we kissed. Why did you push me away?"

It wasn't what I had been expecting at all, although I probably should have thought it would come around at some point. It hadn't been out of character for me, not at all, but maybe Blaine didn't know that. "I think I was just overwhelmed, Blaine. I'm awfully sorry about that, especially if I hurt your feelings." My hands twisted together in front of me, a habit I'd found I often did when I was in awkward situations and had nowhere else to put them. "It was all just moving so fast, and I'm so attracted to you, and I honestly just don't know what to do with those feelings. I kept trying to swallow my words, keep down what I wanted to say to you, because I didn't know if you could handle what I would say. When we kissed, all those words rose to the surface of my mind, and I knew I would end up spitting them out, so I stopped you."

Blaine stayed silent for a moment, biting the corner of his lip. I wanted to tell him not to do that, that his lips were so pink and perfect and biting them would only mar that, but I said nothing. Finally he spoke. "What were you going to say?"

I looked around the room, then, anywhere but at him. I took in the dark cream colored walls, the vanities that had all been pushed to one side of the room, creating a large space in the middle of the room, probably used for a last minute choreography practice. Other than that, the room was unremarkable, in stark contrast to the conversation that was taking place within it. "I was going to tell you . . . that I need you. That I think you're completely brilliant and inordinately handsome, and that the second you walked into my life, it got instantly brighter. I would have said that I could listen to you sing all day, until the earth crumbled to ash and the world ended. That, if I hadn't met you when I did, I probably would have taken my own life within the next two weeks. I would have said that you saved me, in more ways than one, and I know I'll always owe you a great debt. But most of all, I think I would have told you that I'm falling in love with you."

Blaine's hand touched my face, and he gingerly wiped away the tears there that I hadn't even known I'd shed. The urge to lean into his touch, into the warmth of his caress was instinctive, and he kept his hand there on my cheek. His own mouth wavered, and though he did not cry, his nose and ears became red, his eyes wet. "Kurt," he whispered, sliding his hand from my face to my neck, pulling me in closer. "I love you."

Our mouths clashed together in a messy kiss, hands pulling hair and clothes and I heard a button pop and couldn't be bothered to stop and check. Blaine's tongue twirled with mine, an intricate dance that was somehow synchronized despite my lack of experience. I swallowed Blaine's gasps and he took in my moans, and I felt my heart stitch itself back together and as I reveled the fact that I was finally in Blaine's arms, and he was holding me like I'd only imagined in the deepest recesses of my mind, late night fantasies that formulated when I couldn't fall asleep, just listening to him snoring lightly in the bed next to mine. Now it was real though, and I was touching Blaine and he was holding on to me so tight I was afraid he would leave bruises, until I realized that I _wanted _that. I wanted him to mark my body, with something other than scars that resulted from self-harm. I wanted a hickey that I could proudly show off the next day because my _boyfriend _gave it to me, because he loves me.

He pulled away, and I saw just how much I'd rumpled his hair. It had been freed from its gel prison, hanging loose in front of his eyes, the undersides curled up around his face. He looked adorably young, and I brushed the curls away from his eyes to stare into them, and they were dark with desire. I gulped down the lump in my throat, fighting the urge to say something completely stupid that would mess up the moment. Blaine was breathing hard and so was I, and he was still so close, I could feel his heartbeat when I touched my hand to his chest. I never thought I'd have this, that I could be so emotionally and physically close to a person that I could be alone with him, not speaking or moving, just staring and feeling and _being. _

And then I remembered something. Not sure if he would show me or not, I slipped my hand into his back pocket, pulling out the object he had been toying with beforehand. When I saw what it was, I nearly dropped it in my surprise.

"Kurt," Blaine said, but I backed away, shaking my head, gripping the object tightly. It was my key necklace, a simple house key strung on a simple silver chain. There was so much sentimentality behind the necklace though, the mere thought of someone else holding it and touching it making my stomach churn.

"This is mine," I whispered. I could hear my voice break, tears causing my airway to become blocked.

"I know, Kurt, and I'm sorry. You left it on your bedside table this morning before the competition and I know you always wear it, and I brought it just in case it was a good luck charm or something, but I forgot about it until now. I was going to give it back, honest, I promise I'm not a thief-,"

"Blaine," I said, cutting him off. "It's okay. It's just . . . this necklace was left to me, by my mom. I was too young to remember her passing, but there was a note that came with it. It said that if anything should ever happen to her, to give this to me on my fifteenth birthday. It was supposed to be a reminder to never let anyone into your heart who didn't deserve to be there, who wasn't good enough to treat you the way you should be. She told me that if I ever found the right person, to give this necklace to him or her, as a reminder that they have the key to my heart."

Blaine's eyes were shining now, and his hand reached out to take mine.

"I don't know if I'm ready to give up this necklace yet, Blaine." He nodded in understanding. "But I hope that someday down the line, I can give it to you. If you'll accept it."

Blaine hugged me close, holding my shoulders tightly. "I'd be the luckiest man in the world to have the key to your heart, Kurt Hummel."

And I felt God with me in that moment. While before I'd had my doubts, now I knew He must be out there, somewhere. Because I didn't die. I lived because I was meant for Blaine. I just had to know where to look.


	4. Chapter 4: An Act of Love

_Honestly quite embarrassed to be writing this. Hopefully it's at least enjoyable and a bit plausible. I knew I was going to write it anyway. Here's where the M rating comes in, guys! Review xoxo_

_**Home is where the heart is.**_

"It was nice of your mom to give me a ride."

Blaine shrugged, pulling some things from his bedside table. "That's generally how she is. Although I'm pretty sure she suspects we're an item." I jerked my head up from the book I was reading to look at him. "Don't worry, I didn't tell her that. She has great intuition, though."

I placed the bookmark in the page to mark my place, leaning forward to pick at the bedspread. "Your mom's alright with you being gay?"

"It's never really bothered her." I averted my eyes as Blaine began to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, smirking slightly when he discovered one was missing from earlier. "I came out two years ago. She smiled and nodded. It was my dad who got worked up about it."

For a moment I was quiet. "What did he do?" My voice was unnaturally soft.

From the corner of my eye I saw Blaine pause in the middle of shrugging his shirt off. "Yelled. Threatened to kick me out." And then in a voice so low I almost didn't catch it, he murmured, "hit me."

I sucked in an airy breath, my heart squeezing painfully. I never really realized how fortunate my dad was about the gay thing. He didn't make a big fuss when I came out, and he never looked at me any differently. He had always just accepted me for who I was. "I'm sorry." I couldn't think of anything else to say.

Blaine, in just dress pants and an undershirt now, walked over to my bed and placed a hand on my knee. "I handled it." There was a smile on his face, but I saw the sadness in his eyes before he could blink it away.

"And now?"

"We're not close. But we're civil. It's better than nothing, I suppose."

Sensing that I needed to change the subject, I quickly made note of something I'd realized only in that moment. "Where are Wes and Jeff?"

"At a party, I'm guessing. That's what usually happens after a big competition. We Dalton boys can't be so dapper all the time." Blaine threw a wink my way, and I blushed hotly. "I'm going to shower." He looked at me and for a moment I thought he was going to give me an invitation to join him – I didn't know if I would be able to refuse – but he just tipped the ends of his mouth up and leaned over quickly to peck me on the cheek. I stared after him as he left the room, wondering how I got so lucky and when my life had suddenly changed for the better.

Blaine's shower was quick; I'd only gotten a few more pages into my novel before he had rejoined me, still rubbing his now curly hair with a towel. I ignored the skip in my chest as I took in his image, his body clad in only a tight-fitting t-shirt and striped boxers. Reflexively my hands tightened into fists by my sides. I watched him silently as he put his towel in the hamper, his hair sticking up in all directions, milling around the room arranging books and stacking papers and fiddling with his phone. Finally I said something.

"Blaine, is everything okay?"

It was the second time I'd asked him today. He looked over at me with a puzzling expression, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set into a frown. Blaine set down his phone on his bed and wordlessly walked around his bed to mine, sitting down next to me by my knees. He seemed to be inwardly reflective about something, so I let him be until he was ready to talk.

"So about before, when we kissed . . ."

"Yes?" My heart was thudding painfully now. My mind raced, thoughts jumbled and confusing. What if he wanted to take back what he said? What if he regretted what happened?

"You had told me just before that you would have taken your own life, had you not met me. Is that true?"

I looked down, ashamed. "Yes. I attempted it twice before. I knew it was only a matter of time before I finally got it right."

A hand shot out to grab my arm, making me tense up instantly. Seeing how still I'd become, Blaine released the pressure of his grip, but he was still touching me. "Please, don't say that Kurt. I don't know what I'd do without you."

I smiled, but it was self-deprecating, and Blaine knew it. "No one's ever said that to me before."

"Well I mean it." Blaine placed a hand under my chin, lifting my head up. "You have me, Kurt. All of me. And you're going to be _okay._"

And when he said it, in that instant I finally believed it. Before there was always that question, would I survive the day, make it to tomorrow, or would something happen that would cause me to enter that dark place again? But here he was, my guardian angel, my saving grace, protecting me from ever having to go back. Finally, there was something good in my life that was mine, that I could hold on to. I leaned up and kissed him, placing my hands on his face and shutting my eyes, giving in to the sensations and the feel of his arms wrapping around my back.

I pulled back to whisper into his ear. "Take me, please Blaine. I want everything. I want to feel everything. I want to feel _you._" I felt the shiver that ran down Blaine's back to the base of his spine, his breath heated and rapid against my neck. He groaned at my words, latching on to my skin and sucking, then pulling back to bite and lick at the mark he'd created. Gathering my strength, I lay back and pulled Blaine on top of me, feeling him rest his body against mine, hips locking with hips and chests rising and falling in unison as we breathed together. I laced my fingers through the soft curls of his hair, feeling Blaine's lips glide across his collarbone and place wet kisses on my jaw. When he reached my lips he pulled back to look at me, and I saw hesitation in his dark amber eyes. "Are you sure about this?"

I nodded fervently, pulling him back down to kiss him roughly, tongues sliding against each other urgently. "Yes," I murmured against his lips, bucking my hips up sharply into his, earning a gasp from Blaine as his eyelids fluttered and then shut. I did it again, relishing in the delicious friction that relieved some of the growing tension in that area. My hands shaking, I scrambled to find the hem of Blaine's t-shirt, but he sat back until he was straddling my waist and pulled it off himself. Immediately my hands found his skin, marveling in the expanse of smooth tanned skin. I ran my fingertips over his tight stomach and softly-defined abs, brushing against his dusky nipples and over the sharp protrusion of his collarbone. He stilled and allowed me to explore this very new territory, my hands traveling downward, past his bellybutton and down further . . . until my hands were resting on the waistband of his boxer shorts. By now, his arousal was very apparent, but before I could decide what I wanted to do, Blaine's hands were around my wrists, pulling them away from his waist. I was mildly disappointed, and it must have been apparent on my face because Blaine kissed my pout away and slid my own shirt up and over my head. Before I had time to be self-conscious, he was bringing my wrists to his mouth, kissing each scar I'd created with a tenderness that had been absent until that moment. I saw tears in his eyes, and I wanted to tell him that now was not the moment, I begged him not to ask, and he didn't. Carefully he dropped my arms and they fell across my chest immediately, in a non-deliberate attempt at covering myself up. Blaine pushed my hands away, and I squirmed under his gaze as he stared down at me. I wondered if he liked what he saw, or if I had somehow become even more appalling to him. His expression was utterly unreadable, his pupils so blown they completely drowned out the amber. I watched as his tongue snaked out and swiped across his pale pink lower lip, before leaning down to take one of my nipples into his mouth. I gasped as his teeth clamped down on the sensitive nub, biting and pulling gently. My hands dug into his hair, pulling in an attempt to find any sort of purchase. Blaine's hips rubbed steadily against mine, and I heard myself whimpering uncontrollably as his mouth moved further down my body, placing open-mouthed kisses to my sternum, down to my stomach, where he dipped a tongue into my belly button. I giggled and pushed his head down automatically, and he dragged his mouth down to the waistband of the jeans I'd changed into after the show, and my legs were shaking as Blaine slowly undid the button and pulled the zipper down. I gulped down my nervousness as he leisurely dragged the tight jeans off my legs. Blaine's face came level with my underwear, and I turned my head into the pillow in embarrassment as he took in my obvious excitement.

"Kurt," he said, his voice low and husky. I peeked at him with one eye, and he was chuckling in amusement. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, but Blaine was shaking his head. "No no, I just wanted you to look at me. Are you not enjoying it?"

I covered my face with my hand. "In case you couldn't tell, I'm enjoying this very much."

A sneaky smile crossed Blaine's face. "Then pay attention." And in one swift motion, Blaine pulled down my underwear and swiped his tongue up to the top of my cock. I let out an undignified squeal, shouting his name as he bobbed his head up and down, the soft scrap of teeth making me hiss and shake. My chest heaved and my breathing was ragged, but I was doing well at staving off my orgasm until Blaine looked up into my eyes, and when my eyes met his deep dark golden ones, I lost it. My hips bucked wildly as Blaine took me from his mouth and worked me through my white-hot high with his hand. Whimpering, my movements slowed and my vision went black for a few moments at the intense amount of pleasure coursing through my body. I felt Blaine place gentle kisses to my hipbones, but I was too exhausted even to open my eyes and look at him. After a while, I felt him move back up my body. When at last I looked at him, his eyes were expectant and his cheeks were flushed. I realized I should say something, but the only thing I could think of was, "Have you done that before?"

It clearly wasn't what he was expecting me to say, but he blinked away his surprise and pecked me on the nose. "Nope."

"I'm your first?"

Blaine's gaze went cold. "I thought that was obvious."

"Oh, no, Blaine, I didn't mean to imply—I mean, I just assumed . . . Please don't be insulted, honest, you just seem experienced, is all—,"

"Just enthusiastic." Our lips met in kiss that tasted like midnight and salt, and I felt him press his pelvis into my thigh.

"Oh my god, I'm being so selfish. Blaine, do you want me to—,"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "You don't owe me anything. I'll take care of it later."

I laughed into his neck, wondering how he could be so chivalrous even in bed. My hands skated over the smooth expanse of skin down his back, circling his waist and hooking my thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. Face still buried in his shoulder, I slid them down and my hands moved downward to encircle him. Immediately I heard him moan, him moving his hips towards my hands. He felt incredibly warm and heavy in my palm, and it was too dry but it didn't matter because the moment was so electrifying and there had never been an instance in my life where I felt more complete and safe and _right_, Blaine holding me in his arms. I was surrounded by him and I was drowning in his scent, something like sunshine and citrus. His hips were stuttering and I slanted my mouth over his, silencing his moans and his chants of _don'tstoppleaseKurtdon'tstopI'msoclose, _and with a final tug, I pulled him over the edge, and he broke the kiss to scream into my shoulder, something muffled that sounded suspiciously like my name. His shuddering breaths were equally matched by mine, and I felt horribly under-experienced about what to do next. Blaine's body was like a furnace next to mine, and my stomach was feeling particularly sticky. As Blaine gently mouthed at my neck, I grabbed some tissues from my bedside table, cleaning us up as best I could before throwing them in the trash can and snuggling up by his side.

"You're glowing," Blaine remarked, stroking the top of my arm. I turned my head into the pillow, still in disbelief about what I had just done. "Do you regret it?" Blaine's voice wavered.

I shook my head disbelievingly, a little giggle escaping my lips. "Are you kidding? Tonight may have been the single most amazing night of my life."

"It was pretty mindblowing," he agreed.

"I love you."

I don't know what had made me say it, but I had been waiting for the right time and there wasn't really ever the _right time _to say it. Blaine only smiled though, lacing his hand with mine, squeezing tightly. "I love you too."

"Stay with me tonight?"

"Always."

I fell asleep with Blaine's arms around my shoulders, and for the first time I understood what home felt like.


	5. Chapter 5: A Confession

_Oh my God this makes me a little emotional, finishing up this story. I was only working on it for a short period of time but I grew kind of attached to it. Well, thank you everyone for reading and for those of you who left such kind reviews. It really helps me and inspires me to keep writing. I love you all so much! And don't worry, there's something circulating my brain right now that may well become another story very near in the future. Thank you for sticking with me through this, it means a lot! Review please _

_Warnings for adult content, mentions of self-harm (possible trigger)_

**Life isn't measured by the amount of breaths we take, but the amount of moments that take our breath away.**

_"I love you."_

_Blaine smiled at me from across the table, a goofy smile lighting up his face. His golden eyes twinkled at me mischievously, but I nearly choked on my coffee as his words registered in my mind. Something stirred in my chest - something I wasn't willing to identify - so I pushed the feeling away. Every thought I'd ever had rushed to the front of my mind as I attempted to formulate a response, panic squeezing my heart painfully. My fingers began to twitch, and a headache made itself known as my temple throbbed with each heartbeat. Quickly my breathing escalated, and I knew I was quickly on my way to a fullblown panic attack. "I-"_

_"You don't need to say it back." Blaine shook his head, but I saw through his placating smile. His hand reached over the table and found mine. I latched on to him and squeezed, needing skin to skin contact. "I just want you to know." My eyes shut and the world became dark - for a moment my breathing came easier and my heart stopped racing quite so hard. Trembles still shook my wrists and fingers, but eventually the anxiety faded. I reopened my eyes and Blaine was still there, worry in his eyes. His calloused thumb stroked the tender skin of my palm. My eyes filled with tears of gratitude that I blinked away. "Sorry," I whispered. _

_"Don't be."_

I awoke in a cold sweat, my chest heaving heavily as I sucked in oxygen quickly. The nightmare I'd been having more and more lately was terrifying, and now more real than ever. To most it wouldn't be that frightening – no clowns with razor sharp teeth or giant spiders – but it hurt me because it was a reminder of just how crippling my fear used to be. A few words would be said to me, and no matter what they were, I would freeze and my body would go numb and I would just stare at the person, my mind flailing because I could never answer back. This particular dream had been plaguing me since I'd first met Blaine and truly knew how I felt about him – I guess in my subconscious, I was afraid he was going to tell me he how he felt and I wouldn't be able to say it back.

As I calmed down and my breathing slowed to a normal pace, it registered in my mind where I was. It was my bed, in my Dalton dorm room, and sunlight was streaming through the window on this beautiful sunny Saturday, and my left side was unusually hot. I looked down and was just a tad surprised to see Blaine's arm across my chest, his face turned away from me as he slept soundly on his stomach. I ran my fingers lightly through his messy brown curls as memories of our night together flooded back to me, causing my cheeks to heat up and my heart to speed up. It was only then that I became aware of just how _naked _we both were, his left side aligning with mine. I took the opportunity to admire the muscles that stretched under the skin of his back, flexing as he buried his face into my pillow and tightening his arm on my waist. I brushed my fingertips along each line of sinew and muscle, circling the birth mark at the base of his neck. _I'm so lucky. _

My fondling must have woken Blaine from his slumber, because his gentle snoring immediately came to a stop and he turned his head toward mine. My breath caught, and I realized this was probably the most stunning I'd ever seen him – hair loose and messy, eyes half-closed and blinking sleep from them, cheeks slightly red and a lopsided smile that turned my heart to mush. "Mornin'" he grumbled, and his hoarse voice went straight through my body like an electric shock.

"Morning," I answered, lost in his dark honey eyes.

Blaine shifted on the bed, pulling his hand off me to rub at his eyes. His chest was turned to me now, the covers dipping low enough that I could just barely make out . . . I flushed, somehow embarrassed, averting my gaze back to his face. Right now, the sunlight highlighting his hair and making his skin glow, Blaine could have been some sort of Greek god, golden and transitory. I put my hand on his chest just to confirm that he was real, not some hyperrealistic projection of my imagination, noting for the first time the contrast between our skin tones. No matter what I'd ever done, my fair skin had always burned, never tanned the way I'd desperately wanted it too, to not look so much like Casper the ghost every second of the day, even in the summer.

"I like waking up next to you," Blaine said casually, scooting closer to me and pulling me to him. "You smell so nice."

I crinkled my nose. "I thought I smelled like I really needed a shower."

Blaine places a gentle kiss to my shoulder. "I could join you, if you like."

A jolt of panic shot through me, and it must have been apparent on my face because Blaine kissed away my worry. "Not if you don't want to, of course."

My humiliation at my embarrassment only increased as I felt Blaine's semi-hard member sliding against my thigh. Our eyes met at the same time, and before I could really register what I was doing, my arms were bracketing Blaine's shoulders and I lowered my hips to hips, grinding against him experimentally. Our gasps were simultaneous, the friction delicious and arousing. Our tongues met before our lips did, our teeth clashed and it turned from innocent touching to urgent thrusting all at once. Blaine ran his hands up and down my back, cupping my ass and pulling me down, increasing the pressure between us. I moaned as I felt my orgasm building up, wanting to ride it out with Blaine. By his desperate whimpers I could tell he was close too, so I reached down and took both our erections in my hand, squeezing and rubbing, bringing us both to climax. My world went dark for a moment as pleasure shook my body, and Blaine's name slipped past my lips as I collapsed bodily on top of him. For a moment I lay there, soaking in the heat of his body, before rolling away. Blaine mumbled a sigh of protest but curled up into my side, eyes closed and knees tucked to his chest. Like last night, I reached over to the bedside table, grabbed some tissues, and began wiping us down. Blaine laughed as I tickled his tummy lightly, placing gentle kisses to the toned outlines of his abs.

"Morning sex is amazing," Blaine grumbled into my neck, sucking and biting delicately at the skin there. I nodded in agreement, so sated and content that I didn't think I'd ever be able to move.

"Thank you," I said suddenly.

Blaine pulled back to be able to look into my eyes, his hands sliding into mine. "What for?"

My forehead rested against his. "For everything. For being so supportive of me as my friend, and for loving me as much as you do, and for protecting me when I needed it. Honestly I couldn't ask for anyone better."

Blaine fluttered his eyelashes as he cast his eyes down. It took me a moment to realize that he was looking at the scars on my wrists. I didn't pull away, just let him see them and run his fingers over them. They were pale and raised, so a part of me now that I hardly noticed them anymore. "How long ago?"

I felt a tightening in my throat. "Early summer." I hesitated a moment, breathing in enough oxygen to clear my head. "The first time."

Blaine's grip on my wrists tightened almost imperceptibly. "The first time?"

Now my eyes were burning with unshed tears and my throat was aching as I swallowed down sobs. I felt shame rise up in my body until it possessed every inch of me. "The first time was a suicide attempt," I choked out. I heard Blaine gasp, heard him move on the bed and whisper something that I couldn't make out, but I refused to look at him because then I knew the tears would fall. "And there was another attempt after that, involving pills."

My boyfriend's hands moved to encircle my waist and pull me close, crying gently into my shoulder. I thought maybe it was a little backwards, and shouldn't he be comforting me? But I didn't care, because I knew Blaine was picturing me dead long before we'd even met. If it had been the reverse situation, I'd be holding on so tight, knowing how close I'd come to losing him for good.

I knew what I was saying was hurting Blaine, but I had to continue. "I still cut while I was going through therapy. Here and there, when I was feeling particularly low. It wasn't with intent to take my own life; kind of the opposite, actually. I cut to feel alive. After that first time, I chased the high of that pain, kind of like a junkie with a drug. Every slice felt so brilliant and beautiful, but I was careful to make them shallow, so they would heal without a scar. The only ones on my wrists were my suicide attempt; the rest were on my thighs-," Blaine placed his hand on my inner thigh, stroking the soft skin there "—And sometimes on my stomach. Places were the cuts weren't noticeable."

Blaine was silent for such a long time, eyes closed and tears leaking from them. I had the sudden fear that maybe he'd be disgusted with me, after he knew what I did to my body, and he wouldn't want to be with me anymore. It didn't hurt to talk about this; in fact, Blaine was the one person I felt _comfortable _talking about my self-harm with. I trusted him wholeheartedly, with my heart and my deepest secrets.

Finally, Blaine gathered himself enough to lift his head and meet my eyes. They were so haunted, the look of a man who's been dead inside for years. I wondered briefly if this was what Blaine was like before me, away from the prying eyes of his peers. If, somehow, he was just as empty as I was. "Do you still?"

"Cut?" Blaine nodded weakly. "No."

He breathed out, clearly relieved by this. "So when did you-,"

"When we met."

His eyebrows shot up despite himself, and his grip on my hips was bruising but I didn't care.

"Remember when you gave me that whole long speak about how you knew I was hurting, and that clearly I wasn't happy with my life, but to never give up music?" Blaine's head moved up and down in concurrence. "That was sort of the turning point for me. I asked for my dad to bring me my iPod from home, something I hadn't touched in close to a year, and I listened to my favorite songs over and over, constantly, remembering why I'd loved them in the first place. Music . . . it heals the soul. It makes you understand that there's something out there that's worth you surviving so you can have it. It takes music to grasp the idea that sometimes you have to go through the worst to find the best. I was certainly at a very low point in my life when I tried to take my life, but now look at me." My mouth tipped up in a small smile despite myself. "I have the most amazing boyfriend in the whole world, and I'm at a school where people accept me for who I am, and I'm finally _happy. _Happiest I've been since my mom died."

"You're so inspiring, Kurt," Blaine whispered, wiping tears off my cheeks. "To have gone through so much and come out so strong because of it. I almost lost my life to bullying, but it ended up making me a more positive person. And maybe instead of brushing those people's empty words off, you took them to heart, and you believed the lies they fed you to make you feel worthless. But in the end, you came out _alive; _you beat the odds because you were _meant _to find me. We were meant to be together. I know it."

I sat up, sliding my body to rest against the headboard. My heart hurt, felt like it was splitting in two but for a good reason, because Blaine was accepting this instead of pushing it away, and a weight was suddenly lifted off my shoulders and I could breathe without pain. Making a split second decision, I opened my dresser drawer and quickly pulled out my key necklace, dropping it slowly into Blaine's palm. For a moment he just stared at it, eyes wide and glistening. I waited with bated breath, wondering what he would do. Finally he closed his fingers around it, exhaling loudly before saying, "Kurt . . ."

"Please, Blaine, don't. You know I know exactly how much it signifies. If you don't want it, then please hand it back. But I trust you completely, Blaine, and I want you to know that. I've never felt this way about anyone, and maybe we've only been a couple for twelve hours, but I've loved you since we first met. I just thought you were this annoying happy boy, with a guitar and a warm heart, but you turned out to be so much more than that. You're compassionate, and you do something to my heart that makes me miss you even when you're here in my arms, because I know, eventually, I'll have to let you go. Not to mention the sex, which is mind blowing. When you tell me you love me, Blaine, I never want to stop hearing it, and I never want to stop telling you I feel the same way. This is _it. _What everyone wants and very few get. It's love, but you and I both know it's so much more than that. I feel you inside my _body_, under my skin and laced through my mind. Every moment, every touch, every word . . . I never want to forget a single second of this. You taught me how to _live _again, Blaine. You taught me to see the world as a beautiful place, instead of something that could hurt me. I see now that people can't touch me if I'm above them, if I have the support to make it through day to day, because of you. And because of you I've become so independent, I'm standing on my own two feet but at the same time I'd fall apart if you left me. So please, please take this and know how much I love you."

Blaine's solid gold eyes were unreadable, and for one terrifying instant I thought he was going to hand back the necklace. But then in a swift movement, he pulled the chain over his head and let the key rest just over his heart. Seeing that necklace that I'd kept so close to me my whole life on someone else was both petrifying and exhilarating. My eyes watered but I wiped them immediately, not wanting to cry and ruin this. There was no end to this happiness, this feeling that swept over my body and made me want to dance and sing and run outside in the sunshine, enjoy little things that I'd been depriving myself of for so long because I didn't think I deserved them. But now that I had Blaine, it was apparent to me how foolish that was, how I could have been enjoying my life instead of wasting it away, wishing for something that wasn't there. I leaped into his arms and he enveloped me into a warm, naked hug, kissing my head and my arm and whatever he could reach. "I love you so much, Kurt."

"Me too," I said back, my voice thick with emotion. "Forever."

"Forever," Blaine agreed. "Thank you for telling me what happened to you. I know that must have been hard."

"It was hard, but I know you needed to know everything. That was, well, everything. I made a lot of mistakes," I grumbled miserably.

Blaine stroked my hair, pulling me in even closer until there wasn't a millimeter gap between us. "We're all only human, Kurt. And I'll never expect any more or less of you, I promise you that."


End file.
